Chapter 13
Marena’s Mercy and Storm Raider eased through the mild swirling current of the lake in near silence. The Darkwyrlds equivalent of stealth submarines. It was a shame that we didn’t have the equivalent of tactical nukes to fling at our enemies, but the Hellstrike Torpedoes would have to do. The coastline of Beaver Island came into view on our scanners along with the hulls of the mercenary ships blockading the bay.
With a flick of her wrist, Anastasia divvied up the possible targets between both ships and the different bay crews.
“Launch the torpedoes,” I ordered the moment they were in range.
A quiet series of whomping sounds reverberated through the vessel as the front tubes deployed their payloads.
“Reload and keep firing. I want as many torpedoes in the water as possible before they know we’re coming.”
“Aye, Captain,” came the response from the torpedo bays via the comms network on the hub.
Storm Raider similarly opened fire on her targets. Two more volleys were in the water before the lead eight torpedoes reached their destination.
Unfortunately, the footage they fed back to the ship was not promising. Several of the target ships sprayed thousands of countermeasures into the water which attached themselves to the torpedoes and caused them to detonate prematurely. The blast from the underwater explosions rocked the ships and blew a fountain of water into the air but did very little damage.
“One direct hit out of eight,” Anastasia confirmed when she analysed the data. “Here comes the second wave.”
The ships in the bay were already moving and filling the lake water with more of the baseball-sized countermeasures that acted like magnetic mines. Eight fresh submerged explosions thudded even further out than the first set.
“No hits.”
The third volley was a repeat performance of the second. Meanwhile, the enemy continued to chum the waters with these small mines.
“They’ve dumped tens of thousands of those things into the bay,” Anastasia snapped with annoyance. “Some of them explode when they connect with a ship’s hull, but they aren’t strong enough to do much damage. A tiny fraction of what our torpedoes would do.”
“An understandable trade-off.”
That was true enough, wherever a torpedo detonated, a bubble of mines around them was destroyed. Kristoff had seen the same and was already trying something different. All four front bays of Storm Raider targeted the same vessel and delayed the launch sequence by a couple of seconds for each torpedo.
The first torpedo zipped into the mine network and exploded, clearing out the nearby cloud of obstructions. The second followed a few seconds later and got deeper into the network until it encountered the next layer of mines and was similarly destroyed. The third did the same, enough to clear a path for the fourth torpedo that passed through the field.
“Direct hit!” Anastasia yelped with savage joy and on the screen, we could see one of the enemy vessels begin to list as it took on water from a sizeable hole in its hull.
“Adjust your targeting to Mimic Storm Raiders’,” I messaged our gunners down below.
The switch-up led to greater success and three more mercenary ships were hit with one sunk. That brought a rousing cheer from those on the bridge, but then certain realities kicked in. The enemy continued to replace the minefield whenever it had been depleted and started to widen its breadth to the degree that sometimes the third torpedo was not sufficient to clear a path for the fourth.
That could be worked around with Marena’s Mercy and Storm Raider working in conjunction, but the widened net gave the enemy ships more time to react. The initial explosions informed them where our attack was coming from, and they now had time to move out of the way.
“You are going to run out of torpedoes before you make much of a dent in their numbers,” Crynn stated the same conclusion that I had come to out loud.
“The concussive force of a splinter cannon is powerful enough to destroy these mines, correct?” I asked Quixbix internally.
“You’re right,” I switched to addressing Crynn. “We need to surface and take the fight to them.” I shifted from my seat and opened a comms link from the central hub. “Splinter pod crews to your vessels and get in the water. You are to approach the minefield and start to clear it away with concussive blasts.”
Anastasia rubbed her hands together with glee. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to use those babies.”
“Once the splinter vessels are in the water, take us up. They will need a distraction to operate unmolested. We move into missile range and open fire.”
***
Brant
Brant threw his leg over the padded seat of the black crystalline splinter vessel. It looked a little bit like a large jet ski. If jet skis came with harsh angular lines and spikes designed to carve through steel and the barrel of a sizeable cannon on the front. Amber hopped up behind him and they were ready to go.
He had chosen one of the smaller splinter pods designed for two. They were more manoeuvrable, and he wanted the freedom to choose where to go and what to do as the battle unfolded. Something not easily done if you had a dozen or more passengers all eager to board a ship or hit the beaches. Besides once you’ve had a taste of what the smallest pod could do, the larger, slightly more sluggish versions felt like you were moving through the water with a millstone around your neck.
“Ready?” he asked Amber behind him.
“Uh-huh, you concentrate on steering, I’ve got the fire controls.”
There was a secondary control panel in the middle of the padded bench that allowed the passenger riding shotgun the ability to participate.
“Remember the range is under twenty metres while underwater. Don’t waste the mana firing too early.”
“I remember,” Amber sighed in exasperation. “I’m not a rookie anymore.”
“Sure you are,” Brant grinned back at her and flicked the button that would release the splinter vessel.
The docking frame reacted to the instruction and lowered itself from the horizontal to a forty-five-degree angle pointing downward. The clamps released and the splinter vessel smoothly slid off the frame and into the wet bay. Once released the energy field that would protect them from the water flickered into life and the splinter pod dropped into the lake and cleared the hull of Marena’s Mercy.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Brant cranked back the handle on the right and powered the vessel deeper to avoid getting in the way of the other splinter pods dropping into the water around them. When clear, he pulled back on the handles and straightened the pod before joining the small armada that headed for the minefield.
“Charlie One is in the water,” Brant announced over the comms. “Taking position.”
Charlie was the callsign for the squadron of two-person splinter vessels from Marena’s Mercy. Alpha Squadron was comprised of the largest boats that could carry twenty soldiers and were more heavily armed and armoured. Bravo Squadron was the callsign for the intermediary group. They were big enough for six. Bravo Squadron was faster than Alpha but not a patch on Charlie Squadron’s speed.
“Charlie Two in the drink.”
“Charlie Three away and getting into position.”
Brant waited a moment until all eight members of Charlie Squadron confirmed they’d been deployed.
He activated the comms-wide channel to speak with the whole team. “Charlie Squadron will lead the way. Two through eight, follow in my wake.”
A quick twist of the accelerator handle and they were off.
***
With the splinter pods in the lake and speeding their way to clear the minefield, it was time to provide their activities with some cover. Marena’s Mercy burst onto the surface like a leviathan rising. Frothing water spray was sent in all directions and the gulls above cawed in shock and surprise. The slightly smaller Storm Raider emerged in a similar fashion a quarter of a mile from our position.
There was no point in making it easier for the mercenaries to target our ships by keeping them too close to one another.
We had guided the ships a bit closer and were now half a mile from the enemy. The broadside cannons fired their Hellstrike Missile payloads the moment the ship flopped back down and buoyantly came to rest on the churning lake water.
“Wakey wakey! Hands off Snakey!” Anastasia cackled as she used the hub in front of us to remotely target three or four ships with the cannons she controlled.
I doubted we would catch them unprepared or under the mistaken assumption that the minefield would keep us out of range.
Susan had got a hard count of the mercenary fleet, sixty-six ships. The torpedoes had sunk one and left a second in such a precarious position that it limped, in the nautical sense, away from the battle. A couple of others had taken a bit of damage but not enough to hinder them operationally.
However, there weren’t sixty-four ships arrayed against us in the water. The mercenary armada had split in two.
Half of the mercenary ships had put their ‘land legs’ back on. They’d been hauled off the beach and taken beyond the treeline where we couldn’t see them easily.
A road ran down the island parallel to the beach, but they hadn’t stayed on that. There was a connecting horizontal road which intersected with Kings Highway, a second long straight road away from the beach that ran from the southern border of Stormblade Harbour halfway down the island. We had kept it relatively well-maintained to make it easier for groups to get to the uninhabited southern half of the island where the dungeons and the bulk of the spawning crystals were located.
My best guess was that the thirty-odd vessels which had gone back on land were using those roads to make their travel easier. There were deep furrows in the sand on the beach at the point where you could access the connecting road.
That left thirty-four battle-capable ships arrayed across the mile-long stretch of the bay outside the shield pylons.
Our first salvo of missiles struck first but was soon answered.
“Incoming,” I warned. “Splinter cannons fire to intercept. Brace for impact.”
Hundreds of shells and a dizzying array of different energy weapons sailed through the air in our direction. Anastasia deftly shifted Marena’s Mercy to avoid some of the incoming fire. The gunners of the splinter cannons which had a range of three hundred metres, too far to currently target the enemy, unleashed the concussive energy of the weapons. They were quite effective at prematurely destroying physical-based attacks. If you got the timing right, of course, which was easier said than done when the shell or missile was travelling at extreme velocity.
Marena’s Mercy gently rocked in place when it was hit.
“Minimal damage to the hull integrity,” Crynn reported from a hub station while Anastasia concentrated on further evasive measures and keeping up the answering rate of fire.
“How are we doing on the ammo front?” I asked. This had been a small concern; we had used a lot of missiles during the barrage of South Bend yesterday. The Ammunition depots hadn’t much time to repopulate the reserves much.
“Could be better,” Anastasia admitted while she motioned her hands in the air, mimicking the mental commands to the ship. “We have enough to keep this up for another thirty minutes, after that, I will need to dip into energy reserves to re-up. The torpedo situation is much better. We didn’t use many yesterday, just a few to clear the dams and obstructions on the river.”
“Good, if Brant can clear the way, then we can deploy both.”
I watched up on the screen the result of our assault. The Hellstrike Missiles were incredibly destructive. The demon-forged steel warheads sapped the durability of the target and then the incendiary payloads blew the shit out of everything in range. The missiles didn’t achieve the same degree of penetration as the torpedoes, but they made a mess of any external features on the ships. Whether they be sails, weapon emplacements, or the mercenary crew foolish enough to be exposed.
“Captain Torin,” Brant’s voice crackled through the hub table.
“You’re through to me, Brant. What is the situation.”
“We have partially cleared the path and are withdrawing to a safe distance. You are good to go.”
The splinter squadrons had been ordered not to get too close to the enemy ships and just clear away the outermost cloud of mines. This kept them safe from any countermeasure like the depth charges we had and with any luck would mean the mercs didn’t notice that their layer of protection had been systematically thinned. We would fall back on the staggered launch strategy from earlier to get through the layer closest to them. With the outer cloud cleared it should only require the first and possibly the second torpedo to punch a hole for those following.
“Ana, Kristoff, pick your targets and launch the torpedoes.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“It’s kablooey time!” Ana grinned.
Even with the steady boom of missiles and splinter cannon fire, I felt the four thumps like a heartbeat as the first set of torpedoes left their tubes.
The first detonated prematurely as expected, as did the second, but the third and fourth slipped through what remained of the minefield and struck gold. If by gold, you meant the hull of any enemy vessel. Our target had barely made an attempt to avoid a potential collision, either distracted by the missiles or overconfident in the minefield's ability to protect them.
I watched on with a vicious grin as our target listed to the side, taking on water through the huge, fresh rents in its hull. A few more Hellstrike missiles followed the torpedo assault, finishing the ship off, and it sank beneath the waves.
“Hell yeah!” One of the crew shouted vehemently. “Let the bastards drown.”
On another screen, Anastasia had focused attention on Kristoff’s target. If anything they had more success, three torpedo hits broke a white ship that had been moulded into the shape of a swan-like bird in two. That was a bit of a shame, it was a beautiful vessel, and it would have been nice to capture it on piece. On the flip side, it had been firing some of the more destructive weaponry that targeted Storm Raider, so I could understand the logic behind eliminating them first.
“Get more warheads in the water.”
Before the words finished leaving my lips the first thump of a torpedo leaving its tube sounded. “I’m way ahead of you, Torin.”
There was a big smile on Ana’s face. She was thoroughly enjoying herself.
“Crynn, how are we doing for structural integrity?”
“We’re okay, for now. Ana is a pretty good pilot.”
Anastasia snorted loudly. “Of course.”
“Storm Raider is in worse shape, but now that the swan ship is out of the fray, they should be able to stay in the fight for a while longer.”
I nodded in response. The great thing about dungeon ships, though, was their ability to self-repair. Regular vessels would need time in a dry dock with some skilled artisans to be replenished.
With the sheer volume of armed enemy ships, absorbing some damage was unavoidable. That’s why I would have preferred to keep the fight under the surface if possible. Had they kept the whole fleet on the lake, things might have been different. These were professional fighters. What possessed them to make such a tactical error?
Two more ships were hit by our torpedoes and sank as I watched on.
“Crynn, contact the commanders of the ships still in the harbour. I want them ready to launch a sortie the moment we’ve winnowed this lot down to something manageable. It might have made this engagement easier, but I don’t like how half the merc fleet went back to land.”
Crynn hurried to obey my command and opened private channels to the seven ships on the other side of the shield.
Things continued to go in our favour for the next ten minutes. Of the thirty remaining blockaders, we sank a further thirteen before Kristoff was forced to pull Storm Raider out of range. The attrition of the attacks had mounted up to the level they couldn’t be ignored. A further six enemy captains had simply bottled on the fight and sailed off northwards at maximum speed leaving eleven.
It was time to end this.
I opened my mouth to give the order to Crynn when a warning red light flashed on the hub accompanied by a bleeping you couldn’t ignore. The emergency signal.
There was barely enough time for me to make eye contact with Anastasia before she pulled up a fresh screen and Doyle’s unflappable features appeared before us.
He might have looked calm and unperturbed but the hive of activity in the background and the unmistakable sound of combat not related to our naval engagement could be heard coming from another viewer above the Command Hub.
“Captain Torin, a section of the shield in the south of the city has been breached. The mercenary forces are inside. The defensive positions there will soon be overrun. After that, they will be at the palace walls within a few minutes.”
God damn it! I knew thirty ships back on land had been bad news.